


Planning for This

by ashisfriendly



Category: Parks and Recreation
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Wedding Planning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-01
Updated: 2013-09-01
Packaged: 2017-12-25 06:22:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/949701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashisfriendly/pseuds/ashisfriendly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wedding planning fluff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Planning for This

Ben loved wedding planning.

More specifically, Ben loved to watch Leslie plan their wedding.

To make sure she never got distracted, or jeopardized her commitment to the city of Pawnee, wedding planning was reserved for Sunday mornings. As usual, she woke before him and made herself either a coffee or a hot chocolate. He would find her at the kitchen table, magazines sprawled across the dark wood and her wedding idea binder open. When he would sleepily kiss her, her lips tasted sweet and she exuded a dreamy feeling that was contagious.

He made breakfast, almost always, but definitely on Sundays. He hardly made waffles because they were never up to the JJ’s standard. He watched her flip through magazines as he stirred pancake batter. He liked to watch her expression change, from delight to disgust. Every checklist she saw was examined closely, most of them recorded into her binder.

She bit on the tip of her pen and it was torture to look away to check on his pancakes. Leslie liked them perfect, a golden color that stretched across each surface and since she had given him the joy of being his future wife, the least he could do was cook her pancakes just the way she wanted them.

When the plates were put down on the table, she scooted everything over for him and their plates. She pointed out flower arrangements and menu options and he smiled through bites of food. Planning usually ended after breakfast and they would cuddle on the couch and watch some DVRed television or read. But as the weeks went on, planning took up more of their Sundays.

Leslie soon woke up even earlier. Ben now found her migrated to the couch by the time he woke up, an empty cereal bowl on the floor by her feet. She thanked him when he would pick it up, her eyes focused on what she was working on. It was different each week. Sometimes she would be circling things in a magazine, other times revising their guest list. He’d grab a banana and take a seat next to her, her legs immediately draping over his lap, his hands absently rubbing her legs. She planned, scribbling and thinking aloud in a muffled voice until his hands wandered too far and their bodies smashed check lists and magazines.

Wedding planning soon infiltrated other days of the week and it started on one Saturday when their invitations arrived. Leslie ordered them only two weeks prior and was surprised they were already here, running through the house to find Ben, who was shaving.

She pulled him by the wrist, his face wet and still partially covered in shaving cream, to their bed where she frantically worked to open the box. After some fidgeting and finally taking it from her, Ben pried it open, ripping the cardboard. She pulled out another dark blue box and he watched her hands shake as she drew out one invitation.

He remembered finalizing these. He was cooking dinner and she as sitting at the kitchen table, flipping through his iPad. It was a chilly night but she wasn’t wearing pants, only one of his old baseball hoodies and a pair of pale yellow cotton panties covering her. She was swiping through different designs and they easily decided on something with a simple outline of a tree and a clean font. They debated on color for a good thirty minutes, their longest negotiation when it came to anything specific for the wedding. Eventually, she gave up on light blue and they went with yellow.

As he looked at them, framed by her delicate hands, he knew he made the right choice. The card stock was a perfect pale yellow, the tree outline soft and cheerful above the words that were so simple, but meant so much.

Leslie read it aloud and he nuzzled her neck as her soft voice, shaky with anxiety and excitement filled his ears. Shaving cream tangled in her hair as they fell to the bed. He begged her to stay in bed and kiss her. He craved her lips, the curve of her side, and the warmth of her body. She would do this terrible routine of kissing him sweetly to show her she loved him, but shoving him away so she could start stuffing envelopes. She jumped out of bed before he could grab her, but he chased her through the house, her squeals echoing off the walls. He finally cornered her in the kitchen. He wrapped his arms around her and the box fell to the floor. They made out against the counter until he lifted her up and took her back to the bedroom an hour later.

He watched her try to plan a successful seating arrangement and debated for two hours between four cake flavors. He gave her back rubs, the tightness in her muscles becoming harder and harder to knead away. One night, they fell asleep in a tangle of ribbons and small heart shaped card stock labels for their favors and woke up covered in bubble solution.

Two weeks before the wedding, everything was made, arranged, and set; there was nothing to do but wait. Leslie counted down the days on their small white board that hung in the kitchen. Ben watched her erase the number and replace it, usually barefoot and one magical morning, shirtless. When she finally wrote the number one, surrounded by hearts, he snuck up behind her, his hands creeping underneath her worn Harvest Festival t-shirt. He whispered into her hair that they should forget tradition and not be apart that evening but she stood strong, reminding him that she would be leaving for Ann’s house in only a few hours.

He gripped her harder and shook his head, burying his face into her hair.

“I don’t want to let you go.” His voice was so quiet, he wondered if his words got lost.

She turned around and kissed him. He melted into her, her back hitting the board and the number one erased as they slid down the wall, hands wandering, clothes scattering across the kitchen.

Of course he had to let her go, Ann pulled up three hours later and took her away. He tried to stay strong the next day, tucked away in the house with his friends until he was allowed to make his way to the park.

But he didn’t make it. He snuck out of the back door while Andy tried to show everyone how many beer bottles he could balance on one hand and jogged to the park, only a few blocks away.

She planned their timing perfectly, so he wouldn’t see her until she walked across the grass, to their makeshift aisle. But here he was, standing on the sidewalk, staring at the white chairs that were set up across the lawn, bridesmaids walking around with their heels in hand. He craned his neck for her, looking for any shimmer of white.

He kept walking down the sidewalk, skirting past Marlene who was too distracted by something on her cellphone to notice him. He finally took the risk of entering the park, staying as near the perimeter as possible. Every step took him dangerously closer to the wedding site and with each stride his heart pounded louder.

As he walked by the basketball courts he thought he heard his name, but he kept going, too scared to face Ann or Marlene. But then he heard it again, this time the voice clearer through the pounding in his ears.

“Leslie.”

She reminded him that he wasn’t supposed to see her, but with every word she came closer. He was about to protest, to tell her he waited 45 years for this day, for her. Then she walked around him.

She planted her bare feet right in front of him. He felt his chest tighten and his throat close. He thanked god that she decided against a veil and her hair was swept aside and he could see all of her. Her beautiful, smiling face, her lips an enticing light red, her eyes bright. Her dress was simple, the only word she told him about it. The white fabric fit her perfectly and he was thankful it stopped just below her knees, because he loved her petite legs.

He reached for her but stopped, suddenly scared. Of what, he wasn’t sure.

“Can I kiss you?”

She wiped away a tear and blinked, her smile shaking as she nodded.

“Please.”

So he did. For the rest of his life.


End file.
